Here I am, Waiting to Hold You
by jarran
Summary: After finding out about Tom, Liz seeks out Red for comfort and finds it's more therapeutic than she first thought. Red's been waiting for this moment for years, the chance to enfold her, tell her everything will be fine. And so he does. Based on events of 'Ivan' episode. Red/Liz.


_Anything to do with the Blacklist belongs to its respective owners, I'm just a fan. I'm sorry if some words in this don't make sense, English isn't my first language. I do hope you enjoy. Inspired by the beautiful song 'Song to the Siren' by Tim Buckley and This Mortal Coil, and the last (so touching) scene in 'Ivan' shared between Liz and Red.  
_

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_Here I am, Waiting to Hold You_

Liz has nowhere else to go, but to him. She's learned to accept this now.

She doesn't understand how blind she could have been to it all. Until she saw the toy hippo in the photographs of evidence, connecting Tom to the murder of Jolene Parker.

Red had warned her continously.

_"Be careful of your husband..."_

_"I can only lead you to the truth, I can't make you believe it."_

_"It's easier to blame me than having to acknowledge the truth about your husband..."_

The man she had spent her years with- the man she had broached the subject on having a family with- was not the man she initially thought he was. And if he wasn't Tom Keen; dedicated, sweet forth-grade teacher, then who the hell was he?

She rushes through the door, finding him standing by the window, looking out, a glass of scotch in his hands. He turns to look at her, raises the glass to his lips. He doesn't look surprised to see her. For a moment, he looks pleased, until his face is swiped of all satisfaction at the sight of her drenched in heartache and betrayal, turning his expression into a mask of apprehension and tension. Obviously he knows what is coming, even if Liz isn't so sure herself.

She's uncovered the truth. And now, here she was.

"You were right." Liz's voice is muted, vulnerable, flooded with exhausting emotion. She almost expects him to gloat, to mock her. Tell her self-righteously that that's what she got for not believing Raymond Reddington.

"Come in." She already has. She stands staring at him, hands quaking at her sides. She's been trying to keep strong all night, but she feels the traitor of moisture forming in her eyes. "What am I right about, Lizzie?"

He already knows what he is right about, but sometimes its polite to ask. Let her speak freely and clear her mind. Feel the pain.

"About... Tom. You were right." He can tell even forcing herself to say Tom's name out loud is anguishing on her.

Usually Red feels a sense of superiority at being acknowledged as right. But in this moment in time, all he feels is astonishingly... nothing but concern for the young woman standing before him. He sets his drink down on the mantel, eyes pinched as if expecting the worst.

"I'm sorry, Lizzie." All she hears in his deep voice is sincere regret.

She believes him, a first. He _is_ sorry.

"I'm sorry, too." She tries to keep the despair from falling out in her voice with the words. "About all the times you told me about Tom and I..." Her throat tightens and she pauses, recollecting herself with difficulty. "I never believed you. I called you a... a liar. I accused you of making the whole thing up. Manipulating everything like a sick, meddlesome man hell-bent on ruining my marriage."

Red sighs heavily and moves beside her. One hand lifts at the side of his trousers, as if dying to touch her, to comfort her, to make it all better again. But he doesn't let it. At least not until she decides to make the first move.

Her eyes are restless, looking everywhere else in the dimly lit room but directly at him. She catches sight of that ugly thing he was working on repairing, almost obsessively hours before. "What is that?" she asks tonelessly, tilting her chin towards the object. "Is that actually a timing mechanism for an explosive device or what?"

It's exactly the kind of distraction she needs right now.

"No, Lizzie. It's a 1940s Sorrento music box."

As if reading how curious she is, Red goes over towards it. Turns something. A dial. A knob. A melody crackles and comes to life, filling into the room. Her breath hitches in her throat. She suddenly feels as if she's suffocating. Grief comes to her again, but not in regards to Tom. Her father. She forces herself to meet Red's eyes, to look, look, look. His eyes are pitiful and sad, gauging her reaction.

"I know this song. At least, I'm sure I do," she breathes quietly. "When I was a little girl, my father always used to play me this song when I had nightmares. He would hold me close, tell me everything was going to be fine." She tries to smile fondly at the memory but it feels like it's too much effort, too heavy to lift her lips. "And it actually worked. I wasn't... scared anymore because this song he played me reassured me that I'm..." It hits her like a wrecking ball. Red repairing it all day long. A song her father constantly played to make her feel safe or happy when sad or feeling frightened. He wanted her to feel... it. "You spent hours fixing this damn thing. You knew about the song." The blood drains from her face and Liz feels as if her world has screeched to a halt and tilted on an axis. "You... also knew that I was going to find out the truth about Tom... and you knew my father played this to make me feel..." The words get caught on her tongue and linger into a defeated silence.

Red watches her miserably, despising the way her face crumples and falls in despair. Tears gather in her eyes and her lips begin to tremble. He listens to her deep breathing as the seconds pass on painfully slow. He hates to see her hurt, yet he loves to have her come to him.

His hands and fingers ache for want of caressing and comforting. He's always been waiting for this moment; The moment she comes to him, falls into his arms. The chance for him to enfold her and never let her go.

But Lizzie has to make the first move. Always her first.

Liz has tried to reason with herself all evening, before coming to him. She promised herself she would try to see it from an outsiders perspective, and not something personal happening to her. As if it's another case and it has no effect on her or her personal life. It was her own method of self-preservation, but now... all walls of it were crumbling into dust.

Only it wasn't another case on his list. It wasn't something that wasn't effecting her. It was personal, and it was about the man she had loved and been committed to for two years. She had never doubted him once, sensed his deception... until Reddington made her. He wanted her to open her eyes, not be so blind and to uncover the truth, and now she had. Now what was there left to do?

"Lizzie," Red's voice breaks through her pain; a soft, hesitant whisper.

She doesn't realize she's weeping until she feels something wet slithering down her cheeks. Before she realizes it, she let's go, like a bird being freed from a cage, crumpling into him and he catches her in a strong, steady embrace, twining his arms tightly around her. She lays the side of her cheek against his shoulder, against the soft material of his shirt, feeling new tears spring in her eyes. Red rests his chin on the top of her scalp, hushes her gently, strokes her hair with his fingers.

"You know that everything is going to be okay," he breathes into her skin. "You're going to be okay." His soft voice is compelling and strong, filled with conviction. Conviction for her, for all of her strengths, as if he believes her to be so much stronger and resilient than Liz feels she is.

"Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't you just tell me straight-up about Tom?" She doesn't mean to be angry with him, but it comes naturally to her.

_Because hurting you is not something I ever want to do._ "I tried to, Lizzie. But then I thought it was better you uncovered the truth for yourself, even if that meant acting as the scapegoat for a little while."

"And I have uncovered the truth now, haven't I?" she murmurs into his shoulder, voice devoid of any emotion. "I can't believe how stupid I've been. Not once have I ever doubted Tom, even with all those times you warned me."

"That's the tragic and simultaneously beautiful thing about love, isn't it, Lizzie?" She closes her eyes, finding consolation in his familiar voice. He's safe. "It's a double-edged sword, a thorn on a rose. You can become so blind to what is truly right there in front of you. You love someone more than anything else in the world and then you find yourself completely sightless into the depths of their deceit."

"What should I do?" Lifting her cheek off his shoulder, she peers up at him helplessly for guidance. She shakes her head. "I don't know what to do about this. I feel like I... like I'm not really processing anything. What do you think I should do?"

"The question shouldn't be about what_ I_ think you should do, Lizzie, but... what do _you_ want to do?"

She hesitates. If only it was that easy. "I don't know. I just told Tom I had somewhere I needed to be. I don't think he knows something is up. On one hand, I want to confront him, but... I don't know where to even start. Oh God, this feels like a nightmare that I can't wake up from. The unpleasant surprises never end, do they?"

"Everything will work out fine, Lizzie," Red assures her, and he presses a kiss into her forehead.

"How can you be so sure?"

Red takes her by the shoulders gently and pulls her back to look at her face. He gives her his soothing, gentle smile. "Because you'll always have me, wherever you go and whatever you do. I'll be there, Lizzie. And you'll get through this. It'll take time, but eventually this situation with Tom won't hurt as bad as it does now. Every step of the way, whatever it takes to help you cope and get over the heartache... I'll be there."

His solemn promise sends Liz over the edge. It slays her. Exactly the thing she needs to hear from him. A strangled sob tears through her throat.

"You're the only one," she says, forced to admit this. "I had Tom, and I could tell him everything. He was my rock. But it turns out even that is a lie. If it wasn't for you, I'd be so lost. There's no one else to talk to."

"I think you ought to stay with me tonight, Lizzie. You are in no state to be alone and I don't want you hurting yourself." And she doesn't disagree.

She begins crying again and Red hushes her, holding her pressed tightly to him in an embrace. They stand like that for an immeasurable count of time, until he starts swaying to the music with her, and she lets him lead with her arms draped exhaustedly around his neck; His hands stroking her hair, cradling her face tenderly, her tears never-ending and dampening his shirt. In a way she never expected she would ever be feeling towards Raymond Reddington, she finds peace in his firm embrace. She finds clarity in being held close, in his hands and fingers stroking the back of her scalp, in his lips brushing her forehead like with each one he's giving her gifts.

In Raymond Reddington, Liz finds her strength.

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I don't know if this is worthy of more chapters. Should I make it more than one? It's probably very terrible, but anyways... Sorry.


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